By: ISS
Description of the time when one comes to know for the first time, about the world around him, the sky, the trees, the birds and the bees. This story is about the early part of my life.
It begins describing the days when I was merely a student of class V. We lived in a small district town those days. We - me, my father and my aunt; the sister of my father. I had lost my mom a lot before, at an age I can hardly remember of, perhaps no one can. My father used to work in the Electric Department. He was not a technician though; he was in some sort of an administrative post, for which he used to have to travel a lot. That he used to be absent most of the time of the week, I can remember. At times we could see him only in the weekends. And then also he used to be occupied with loads of files. My aunt used to reprove him for bringing works to home, but it was of no use. Perhaps he felt the absence of his wife even more while at home, and made attempt to keep himself busy. So I was learning to spend time by myself. As a lonely child I hadn't developed the habit of making much friends either.
In school there were one or two boys I could mix with. One of them was Manik, the eternal first boy, from a rather poor family. Both of his grandfathers were farmers (from his mom & dad's side). But his father had lost the land for some reason unknown, and had to come to the town. He was a distributor of stationary goods to the shops in town. Manik had one elder brother and a little sister. Even at that age, from their clothes, the state of the house they used to stay at, I could realize their hardship. And there was Joy, who was exactly from the other pole by all means. Being the only son of a rich wood merchant, he was gay, confident and in a way, a bit arrogant, too. He never stood first, or even 10th for that matter, not because he lacked in intelligence, but because he simply would not bother. While Manik used to help me with my studies (I myself was not a bad student either; Geography and the science subjects were among my favorites), Joy actually led me to the world outside the textbook, outside our town; to the immense storage of surprises of life. Unlike other small town boys, he had vast knowledge of the world. He had friends in Delhi, Mumbai, and even abroad; in The States, in London. He used to receive letters from those friends; with the smell of that world on the other part of the sea. There was a library in his house, on the second floor, which belonged to his dad (Joy told me he had no business with any books save the Income Tax books).
I used to explore those territories of fantasy and knowledge printed in between two covers. So did Joy. He however, enjoyed a special interest in knowledge that was forbidden to us. In India, nobody ever acknowledges the knowledge openly, and we were kids. His father had a piece of 'Kamasutra' in his collection. I don't know about him, but Joy had become an authority as far as that book was concerned. He had some very suspicious looking magazines in his own collection, he told me he had stolen them from his mother's collection, with already some pages torn apart, the pictures in the remaining parts used to make my years burn. His mother lived in Calcutta with Joy's sister, working in some bank. Their parents had separated a long time ago. Joy never seemed to be sorry about that; at least he never showed he was. He used to visit his mother and sister regularly though. Everyone; at that age possesses a lot of secrets. And they keep looking for the right person to share the secret with. The three of us; Manik, Joy & me had found in each other right ones. Although, in application it's Joy who had all the secret stories to tell. Practically he had a treasury of secrets. We were happy with listening to his stories.
In fact Joy's secret sharing didn't always consist of story telling. One day he told us that he will show us something very interesting. We went to his place. Manik generally avoided going to Joy's house, but Joy literally dragged him along. He led us to the 1st floor and then to a rear balcony. At first he suggested that we had to be silent by putting his index finger on his lips. Then he waved his hands indicating that we should kneel down, and even bend down a bit. I could only sense of something fishy going on. Then; after a while, joy pointed his finger to the ground below. We looked at the piece of land that was once a garden of sorts like the front portion of the house still is. For some time we looked here and there, not knowing what to look for. Again, Joy showed us the way by pointing at a maidservant idly brooming the garden in the evening time. Not noticing the interesting point in that picture, we looked at Joy, but he gestured back as to wait and see. After a minute or two, the maid servant, who was a very feeble looking girl of 15/16; stopped sweeping, got rid of the broom and came close to a tree which was near to the balcony. Then she looked around for a while and then suddenly, sat beside the tree trunk and began to pee.
And Joy began to giggle, and in effort to keep it silent, he began to make faces and finally began to roll up and down the balcony. If I was shocked, then Manik was horrified, he had become pale and so nervous that could not talk properly for almost an hour. And the poor girl; suspecting nothing; kept on watering the tree... well, not for an hour, though. Well; at that point of life, I didn't have the experience and knowledge so that I could realize that some aspects of my life also could be considered as secrets. If I did, I would have told them to my two friends. Thanks heaven that didn't happen. In the absence of my mother, my aunt brought me up almost entirely, except for the first tow or three years; when a woman was engaged to look after me while my aunt was not home. My aunt was a teacher in the primary school and by the time I was three or four, she began to take me with her. Her class was in the morning, so I had to leave the bed very early. That habit continued till I was in the secondary school, which began at 11 am.
I used to call her bui (her real name was Krishna). She was around 30-32 years of age at that time. She hadn't married; because, as I came to know later, some man whom she loved and was supposed to get married betrayed her. And that she was independent and not really very good-looking might be the other reasons why no one pressurized her. Although the concept of woman beauty was not clear to me, but I must have noticed her physical aspects, as I can remember how she looked at that time quite well. She stood tall- almost five and half feet as she still does. Strongly built, she is of mixed complexion. She has long hair, which she nourishes with a special brand of coconut oil. The smell of that hair reminds me of those silent afternoons when I used to play hide n' seek by myself with bui's hair. She use to take her afternoon nap beside me not at all moved by my pulling her hair. When I got tired I would rest my head on her bosom- the softest pillow I have ever had. It was very warm, too. My head would lift up and down with her heaving chest. Sometimes I could feel one of her nipples slowly hardening under the pressure of my cheek. I would then lift up my head to have a look at the taut, brown coloured papilla poking against the soft semi-transparent material of her saree. I could also see the wide spread circle around the nipple distinguished in colour that was something between the dark brown of her milk-button and the dusky tint of her chest. She would normally remain bare chest in the afternoons; just covering the bosom with the pallu for the sake of it.
It used to amuse me how the erect protrusion would shiver by itself when rubbed gently by the tip of my nose or simply by my finger. She would sometimes produce a little moan in her sleep in response to those tortures. In the evening I would find myself sleeping alone in that bed with a real pillow below my head. Bui would have woken up and gone for some housework. I would sometimes go to the terrace, watch the setting sun. I would take a binocular with me, but as it was more like toy-binocular than a real one the magnification was not great. Bui would come to the terrace once in a while, combing her long hair after the evening bath. The aroma of soap, oil and something more coming from her body would make me feel fresh; feel happy after the setting sun had made me depressed. After the dusk had fallen, we would come downstairs, have some snacks; then study. I had to prepare my homework, which was under Bui's guidance. Bui also would be busy with the class-test papers submitted by the students. Around 9.00 or 9.30 I used to begin to nod in drowsiness and would suddenly feel a very wet smack on my cheek or lips, I would try to make out what had happened, and after succeeding in opening my eyes completely, I would discover Bui breaking into laughter as she has kissed me back into consciousness. Bui would then take me into her arms fondling and kissing again, but this time not so loud! . It used to mark the official ending of the day's study. It was time for a little play (sleep was gone, at least for a while) while Bui arranged our dinner. Most of the days, it was dinner for two.
After dinner, I would go strait to bed with a comic's book or some storybook (secretly borrowed from Joy's father's library) and read a while. In the mean time, Bui would come to the room after finishing her work. I would listen to her lilting some soft tune while changing into a nighty. She would normally come to bed with a book for herself, and this time around either I would be gone into coma again, or Bui would be snatching the book from me and make me sleep. It was necessary for I would have to be up early for the morning school. Mornings would have become really tough for me without Bui. She used to give me the first wake up call when she had woken up herself. After freshening up she would prepare our breakfast, as both of us would be leaving for school. She would then come to the room for the second and final time and if I was still in bed (which was the normal case) she would simply slip her hand into my half pant, taking my tiny (and probably a little swelled at that particular time of the morning) male organ between her index finger and thumb, she would press it just hard enough to wake me up. After that treatment it would become compulsory for me to go to the toilet and release the flow. We used to have those '2-minute noodles' in breakfast, but there were also tea and milk for Bui and me, respectively. She would help me dress up for school. Then, while I prepared my school bag, she used to get dressed herself.
She, at first, used to put on a petticoat under her nighty. Then she would get rid of the nighty and start wearing the brassier. I loved this part as she struggled hard to manage to put those immense volumes into the bra. She would first try to cover the breasts and then lock the hook at the back. But then, as she moved her hands to her back those two wretched bottle gourds would prove their loyalty not to her, but to gravity, and fall below the brassier level. She would then have to hook up the back and then thrust in each breast inside the cup at a time. I could see the pain in her face as they were too large for the lingerie,* and they would probably ache while the elastics grabbed them tight, as the flesh would bulge out from every corner of the triangular twins, as if to show the intention of erupting violently and over flowing the room with their juices. But nothing would happen. After adjusting them a little, she would gradually put on the blouse and the saree also. And then, we would be off to school. *(At that age I had no idea as to the cup-size and all, otherwise I would have found out her bust size officially. And now I can't, because at 46, bui no longer wears a bra, perhaps there is no bra in the world that can give shelter to her boobs anymore, as they have grown even bigger and sagged with age. In these days, it's a rare site when bui is wearing a blouse, and even when she does, those fat, heavy, saggy mammary glands hang below the blouse in partial disclosure invitingly with the exposed paps which resemble seasonal black-berries; size wise and colour wise.)
It was my final year in the primary school around that time. I was in 4th standard. There was a lot of tension around; everybody guessing and speculating about the new school(actually it was the same school, in the same campus, only the building was different); everybody was concerned about the teachers and the rules. Someone came to know from somewhere that the principal's temper was awful. Then there was this story about the teacher who used to make her students get out of their pants and kneel down at the entrance of the classroom, so that whole school could see their fate. But the fate would be worse for the boys with larger penis. They would be punished for the whole year for apparently no crime. These whisperings had made us worried more than we were for the exam. Manik had nothing to worry anyway, as he was ahead of the syllabus, and the course itself. He was already solving some of the problems we would be facing in the fifth standard, mathematically that is.
But it was joy, who couldn't just wait to be in secondary school for all the reasons in the world ; first, he wouldn't have to wake up at dawn, and therefore late night movies will be allowed ( as if he wasn't watching them already), secondly, perhaps he was getting bored of the same teachers. He couldn't stand the sight of a single teacher, except bui, who, in school, used to be called Ms Dutt. I could only guess, that it was the same reason, the other children liked her too, for she never punished any of her students physically, as far as I can remember. She would sometimes rebuke them for not doing the homework; or perhaps if they had done any serious wrong deed, she generally liked mischievous kids, though; as she thought it was the sign of a healthy mind and body. There were some students, though, who used to like her for some other reasons; and one of them was Joy. But I came to know about all these a lot later. After the school, I would generally go out with Manik and Joy sometimes to Manik's place, but mostly to Joy's. Not far away from Manik's house, there was a big pond, which was as big as a lake; with one or two islands in it's stretch. Manik was a very good swimmer; he swam like a fish in the water. I myself wasn't a bad swimmer either. We used to plunge into the water and indulge into our own version of water sports. Joy, unlike us, was afraid of water and would sit on the bank comfortably and watch us. He would sometimes bring a book and read. He used to bring a camera, too; with a long tube like thing fixed in front, he used to call it 'tele'. The pictures he took with that camera; for some reason, couldn't be washed and printed in our city based studios. They had to go all the way to Patna and come back. And after seeing the pictures we would be convinced about the city based studio's qualitative superiority and also, that Joy would be in real trouble in some local studio with all those pictures of half-clad bathing women in the lake.
Anyway, after the swim we used to go back to our own homes, respectively. My swimming in the lake wasn't much appreciated by bui. She used to worry, more because she thought it was unhygienic, than about the danger of drowning, as she knew I was a good swimmer, not as much as she was, though. She was inter-college swimming champion of her time. So, after getting back to home I used to have to go through a prolonged process of washing and cleaning. First, she would snatch away the school bag from my hand as to stop it from getting infected any further. Then she would grab me by my wrist and drag me to the bathroom. Now, at that time, and even a long time after, we didn't have a bathroom of today's definition. Our house was a big one, to be precise, a long one. After the entrance, there was a long corridor, which ended near the kitchen. At the beginning of the corridor, on the right, there was a room where my dad would normally occupy, when home, then there were some stairs going up to the first floor, there were two rooms. One of them was kept empty for the guests, bui and I used to stay in the other one. There was a divergence in stairs and one part would lead to a terrace, under that there was a room, which was also on the right side of the corridor. At the end of that room, there was this place, where a draw-well was dug. And a tube well was there, too. An asbestos sheet on top covered this place. As far as privacy is concerned, there was no neighboring house in immediate proximity. On one side a cold storage, which was not in use anymore; standing alone and a deserted field on the other side, our house was quite a safe place for bathing in open air. Another corridor commenced at the point where the bathing place ended. Alongside the corridor, on the left two rooms were there attached to the kitchen.
After taking me to the bathing place, bui would promptly open the buttons of my shirt. Uttering angry words, that I don't listen to her and go to swim in the lake every day; which was off course not true, she would then unbutton my pant and slide it down in a harsh manner as if she couldn't bear the sight of me wearing it anymore. I can well remember that it had been this way all the way through; as far back as I can recall, and I never had any sort of problem with it. But this time around, things were changing, I was closing on my puberty. Standing naked in front of bui, I would wish my winkie disappeared; not that I had serious objection to bui watching me naked, that was not the case. The problem was; my manhood had begun enacting little weird performances during the bathing time which were causing embarrassment.
Bui would, at first, pour a couple of mug-ful of water, on my head, then before applying soap on me, she would open her blouse if she was wearing one (sometimes, after returning from school, she wouldn't were any). Releasing the hooks one by one, generally beginning from the top, one or two safety-pins would substitute for the hooks sometimes, and in case of those, she would unlock them from one side and then pierce it into the clothing material of the other side very carefully, as to not hurt the soft flesh underneath, increasing the agony of the watcher all the time. After she had done with the bottom hook, those dusk, pendulous meatballs would get released in a terrific swaying motion, trembling violently, spreading ripples all over the smooth skin surface as if expecting an applause from some audience, only, there would be me alone, with a swelled prick and redden face in appreciation of those tremendous twin mounds.
Her pallu, now rolled in, hanging unsteadily from her left shoulder, vaguely trying to cover some parts of her vast bosom, made the site more beautiful, if that is the right word for it and made the one watching feel lustful, and I believe that is the right word for it. She would then begin to apply soap on me, after doing the hands and the torso, she would go down to my legs and ...the sensitive parts, passing the sponge ever so slowly over the region again and again...making my already stiff member become hard and slowly stand on it's own. An unknown and yet so desirable feeling overwhelming my consciousness my feet would loose their strength. And I would have to keep my balance by holding bui's shoulders and transfer my weight onto her strong structure. In the process my body would get more close to her, steadily rubbing my legs, not least bothered by my weight; it was nothing for her, really. My then fully erect penis (to it's fullest capacity at that age, if not more) would dangle inches away from her face and as she moved her face from side to side, it would flap on her cheeks, sometimes touching her eyelids, brows, nose and I, not quite in myself, would pray that it touched her saucy lips, and when it actually would, she, not bothering whatsoever, would continue washing...and still, to my amazement I would find her face not moving from that position any more, and that it was going in between her lips, and that it was being licked very lightly by bui's slavering tongue.
Meanwhile, she would continue scrubbing my legs, as if nothing was happening. But as passion would crawl up to my brain and take a grip over my tottering body, my hands would slip down from bui's wet shoulders, rubbing against her collarbones, all the way to the blubbery parts. Not wasting any time; as though, guided by instinct, I would start squeezing those juicy melons and find them melting under my assaulting palms. Obviously moved by this action from me she would gently take my twinging rod inside her mouth and begin the act of sucking. Totally in desperation, almost out of my mind I would hold her teats tight, pinching them hard, twitching them inches away from their origin, as well, as if to test their elasticity, making them really taut, the dark colour turning into kind of violet as blood gathered in their superficial layers.
She, in response would clench her fingers firmly into the flesh of my butt and engage her tongue and lips into the act and start - what could actually be called a blowjob, in more intense manner. Swinging on the verge of unconsciousness; I would grab her around her neck by one hand and with other keep on rubbing her nipples, roughly twisting them off, until my throbbing manhood shoots off its juvenile cum into bui's expecting mouth. She, in all probability, would swallow it, but I would loose consciousness before I could realize that. But, after the bath as she would pat my naked butt, and kiss me on my mouth, playing to my tongue with hers, I would smell and taste something in her mouth that was very different from everything in the world.
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